Wanted
by Ghislaine Emrys
Summary: When Heyes and Kid decide to help a friend, they run into some unexpected problems.


**Wanted**

_There is no more sure tie between friends than when they are united in their objects and wishes. - Marcus Tullius Cicero_

"You're criminals! Thieves! Robbers! Crooks! Felons! Need I remind you how much money you stole? You should both be in prison!" Lom Trevors was shouting at Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, who were sitting in his office in Porterville rethinking what had seemed like a good idea three days ago.

"Actually, Lom, we're not felons. We haven't been convicted."

Kid shot a warning look to Heyes, who wiped the incipient smirk off his face before Lom saw it and got even madder.

"No, Lom," Kid responded calmly. "We were there. We know exactly what we did."

"And that's why we've come to you," Heyes added, sounding appropriately repentant yet also hopeful.

Kid nodded his head marginally; that attitude was much better.

Heyes turned one of his outlaw leader looks on Lom. "You're our last chance, Lom. If you can't help us, well, I don't know what we'll do."

Lom, though now a sheriff, had once been an outlaw himself and was not totally immune to the power of his former leader's looks. He sat in his chair behind his desk and contemplated the two outlaws. They had come to Porterville to ask him a favor. That much Lom knew. What he didn't know, and what Heyes and Kid weren't telling him, was why they needed $1,000 and why he had to be the one to give it to them.

"You're just gonna have to trust us," Kid said.

Lom stared incredulously. "Trust you? You? That's a lotta money, boys. I need to know what you're gonna do with it before I hand it over."

"Now, Lom," Heyes began. "You know our word is good." He smiled wickedly at Kid. "Though it is kinda chilly here and Santa Marta sure is nice in October."

Kid rolled his eyes. "Heyes, that ain't helpin'." He turned to Lom. "Look, if I tell you it's for a good cause, will you believe me and just give us the money?"

Lom sighed. He did trust the two men, but not completely. They'd been on the right side of the law for over a year now, but that was just it. The Governor still hadn't made good on his promise to give them amnesty. Lom knew Heyes and Kid were tired of waiting and he thought maybe they'd reached their breaking point. Maybe, despite Heyes' joking, they really were going to take his money and run off to Mexico.

"You aren't going to tell me what the money's for?" Lom tried asking again.

"No, Lom," Heyes replied. "It's our secret." He knew without looking that Kid pursed his lips, but he wasn't sure if it was in amusement or annoyance.

Lom made up his mind. Heyes and Kid were smart. They didn't look like outlaws, which was why they'd never been captured; well, never for long, at any rate. "All right, boys. I'll give you the money. Can you at least tell me when I'll get it back?"

"Thanks, Lom! Real good of you!" Kid stood and shook his hand, smiling.

"Yeah, thanks, Lom. I knew you'd…" Heyes choked off what he'd been about to say as he caught another glance from Kid, and ended with, "…know you won't regret this."

Lom said under his breath, "I already do, boys."

They heard but chose to ignore him.

More loudly, Lom repeated, "I do want to know when you'll repay me." He looked first at Heyes, then at Kid.

Heyes shrugged. "Hard to say. Depends on…" Kid kicked Heyes in the leg. "Can't really say. But I promise you won't lose because of this." Heyes neglected to clarify that payment might not actually be in the form of monetary reimbursement.

"All right. I'll go over to the bank when I'm doing afternoon rounds. Where will you be then?"

"In the saloon. Where else would we be?"

"Great, my money's going to support your drinking and poker habits. What was I thinking?" Lom looked upwards but found no answers in the ceiling of his office.

"Lom, have a little faith!" Heyes reassured the sheriff. "Don't worry, everything will be fine!"

=0=0=0=

Over in the saloon Kid asked, "Heyes, just how are we going to repay Lom?" They were standing at the bar nursing beers, but had paid with their own money since Lom hadn't come round yet.

"I'll win it in a poker game, Kid. How did you think we'd get it back?"

Kid sighed. "As long as I don't have to ride drag on some two-month long cattle drive."

Heyes looked at his partner. "Like I told Lom. Have a little faith, Kid. It's a good plan, you know it is."

"I sure hope so, Heyes. We'll be in big trouble if this don't work. You know that as well as I do."

Heyes nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and that's why we have to do it. It'll work, trust me. When have any of my plans gone wrong?"

"Are you kiddin'? What about all the jobs for Big Mac, takin' Clara back to Devil's Hole, guiding those archeologists... Heyes, the list goes on and on!"

"Oh, those were all someone else's plans, Kid, I just happened to be involved." Heyes flicked his wrist to brush away those inconvenient memories. "They don't count, 'cos I didn't plan them."

"You better be right, Heyes, I don't want to have to deal with Lom if things don't work out."

Just then, Lom came through the bat-wing doors and stood for a moment before locating Heyes and Kid. They bought him a beer, then he took a thick envelope from his inside pocket and held it in his right hand.

"You're really not going to tell me what this is all about, are you, boys?"

Heyes answered him. "We're sorry, Lom, we just can't. But I promise you, it's nothing illegal. We're not jeopardizing our amnesty and we're not putting you at risk, either."

Kid added, "We'll be able to tell you in a few weeks but not before then."

Lom stood up and, looking at them speculatively, said, "All right. I sure hope you know what you're doing." He handed over the envelope, wished them good luck, and returned to his office.

"I sure hope so, too," Kid muttered as he and Heyes went back to their hotel room to finalize the plan.

=0=0=0=

Although it was barely half past eight o'clock in the morning, the store owners in Denver were setting up tables to display their merchandise and their assistants were sweeping the boardwalks clear of dirt and litter. Women strolled along, children in hand, chatting with friends and going in and out of shops to buy their week's necessities. Men walked somewhat faster, on their way to work in the banks and offices that lined both sides of the streets. Heyes and Kid had to walk their horses carefully to avoid hitting pedestrians who weren't paying much attention to the traffic and to avoid all the other horses, buggies, buckboards, and stagecoaches that were sharing the road with them.

They registered at the Denver Palace and after ascertaining directions from the desk clerk, the two men exited the hotel and started walking towards their destination. Twenty-five minutes later, they reached the building that housed _The Denver Tribune_.

"Heyes, you sure about this?" Now that they were actually there, Kid began to have second thoughts.

"Come on, Kid, everything'll be fine." Heyes strode through the entrance and looked around to find someone who could help them. He spotted a man at a desk and went over to him, with Kid following.

"Excuse me." The man looked up. Heyes spun the tale he and Kid had earlier agreed on. "Good morning. My name is Joshua Smith and my partner here is Thaddeus Jones. You may have heard of us? We're the owners of the gold mine up at Hahns Peak. Well, our little town is just growing so fast we decided to start a newspaper to keep everyone informed. But we really don't know much about the publishing business so we thought, who better to give us some information than the people at Colorado's most respected newspaper? That's why we've come here. I know we don't have an appointment but we don't have the telegraph yet out where we are. We're only in town for a few days and we'd really like to get our little journal started as soon as we can. I'm sorry for barging in here like this but if it's at all possible to speak with the publisher or editor, we'd be mighty grateful. Do you think you could help us?"

The employee looked dazed and even Kid, who had heard it before, was impressed. Dang, but Heyes' tongue sure was silver! Maybe they should've picked a place with a silver mine instead—be more appropriate. Although, Kid did like the idea of owning a gold mine. Next time Heyes could have a silver mine and he'd take the gold all for himself.

"Uh, certainly, Mr. Smith, was it? Let me see if anyone is available to meet you. Please, make yourselves comfortable." The man gestured to a couple of chairs and then went up the stairs on the other side of the room.

Heyes and Kid sat down and waited.

"What do you think, Kid? Did he buy it?"

"Heyes, even I bought it, and I know it's a lie!"

"Shh. He's coming back. I think we're in."

The would-be newspapermen stood up as two other men approached. The second man spoke. "Gentlemen, I'm William Hill, the editor of _The Denver Tribune_. Please come with me. Mr. Horace Field, our publisher, was very interested to hear about your venture and he can spare a few minutes now to talk with you."

Heyes and Kid followed him upstairs.

"You know, you're very lucky. Mr. Field is an extremely busy man but he's always willing to help out other newsmen."

Heyes smirked at Kid.

"He's helped quite a few people get their start. All he asks in return is that you send him the first edition of your newspaper."

Kid stared at Heyes. Now what?

Heyes looked back calmly, and Kid relaxed. "We'll be happy to do that, sir. But it may take us a while to get it up and running, being so busy with our gold mining. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," Hill said. "Mr. Field understands that sometimes things don't work out. It's only natural that some people, not being as good a businessman as he is, have ideas that are bigger than their ability to achieve them."

Heyes didn't need to look at Kid to know he was silently laughing.

Fortunately, they reached Field's office at that moment, so Heyes was spared from having to reply. They entered, and Hill left to return to his work. The publisher stood up behind his large mahogany desk. He was elegantly dressed in a dark suit but the window behind him made it difficult for Heyes and Kid to see him clearly.

"Gentlemen, welcome. How can I help you?" Field was pleasant in his manner, as befit a kingpin of industry who deigned to give a few minutes of his valuable time to two strangers who might, or might not, someday be worthy of his acquaintance.

Heyes repeated his story and added, "So, Mr. Field, if you could give us the names of some reputable printers here in Denver, that'd be a big help. We figure the rest should be pretty easy, just following basic business principles." Heyes looked expectantly at the mogul.

"Did Mr. Hill tell you my condition for helping you?"

"Yes, sir, he did." Kid spoke for the first time.

"We'll be happy to send you our first edition as soon as it's published. We already have a name for it," Heyes added extemporaneously. "We think _The Hahns Peak Herald_ sounds real good."

"All right, gentlemen. We print the text of the paper right here in this building. You're welcome to take a look on your way out; just ask Mr. Hill to show you. We use two different printers for the advertisements; which one depends on what kind of work we need." He wrote out the addresses on a piece of paper and gave it to Heyes, who carefully put it in his suit pocket.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get this evening's edition ready." He ushered Heyes and Kid to the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Field, you've been very helpful." Heyes said. Kid nodded his appreciation. They shook hands and left the office.

Since it would have looked odd to leave without seeing how the newspaper was printed, they found Hill, who was happy to give them a tour. After learning more about the business than they really wanted to know, they thanked him profusely and left.

"Sheesh, Heyes! Did we have to spend so much time there? I'm going blind from all that readin'!"

"I thought it was pretty interesting, Kid. You never know when information like that will be useful."

"You plannin' on startin' a newspaper after the amnesty comes through? 'Cos if not, I don't see the point of knowin' about all that stuff."

Heyes stopped suddenly and looked at his partner. "That's a great idea, Kid! We'll publish a newspaper! I'll write the articles and do the accounts and sweet-talk people into buying advertising. And you, well, you can deliver the paper to our customers. What do you say?" He grinned at Kid's expression.

"Funny, Heyes, real funny. First we gotta get the amnesty, so let's do what we came for and then you can dream on about it."

=0=0=0=

The large, colorful sign over the door of the first print shop was an indication that the cost of doing business there might be too expensive for them. Nevertheless, they needed to investigate all leads so Heyes and Kid went inside.

"Good morning," Heyes greeted the man who approached them as they stood inside the door. "I'm Joshua Smith and my partner here is Thaddeus Jones. Mr. Field, of _The Denver Tribune_, recommended we come here. We'd like to speak with someone about designing an advertisement."

As soon as Heyes uttered the magic words "Mr. Field," the man began to smile. "Certainly, gentlemen. I'm Charles Cunningham, the owner of this establishment. Please, come with me." He guided them to a large desk. "What exactly would you like to have designed?"

Heyes and Kid looked at each other and Kid silently told him to go ahead. "Well, sir," Heyes began. "We don't have the design worked out yet so we'd like to see some samples of advertisements to give us some ideas, if that's possible."

"Of course." Cunningham pulled out a large book from one of the drawers in his desk. "Here are samples of all our work from the past three months. If you tell me what kind of advertisement you have in mind, we could go through them faster."

"It's a little hard to say, sir. I think the best thing is for us to look through all of them and pick out the ones we like. Then we could discuss how to adapt the design for our particular purpose." Heyes hoped Cunningham would accept that. He didn't want to come right out and tell him what they wanted; the fewer people who knew, the better.

"Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith, I suggest you sit over there where the light is better," he said, pointing to a table near a window. "When you've made up your minds, please let me know and we can discuss things further."

Twenty minutes later, Cunningham looked up from his work when Kid coughed. "Have you found some you like?"

Heyes pointed to two advertisements. "Either of these would be suitable. Could you tell us how much it would cost to print them?"

"The first one, because it's in color, naturally would be more expensive." Heyes and Kid nodded. "For one print, it would cost $10.00. If you wanted multiple prints, say 100 copies, I could give you a ten percent discount."

Heyes rapidly did the calculation. "So 100 advertisements would be $900.00."

Kid's eyes widened. They certainly didn't have enough money for that. "And how much would it cost to do the black and white one?"

"That would be a lot cheaper. For one print, it would cost $6.00 and for 100, I could give that to you for $5.00 a print."

Again, Heyes did the math. "Well, $500 is certainly a better price for us but my partner and I will have to discuss this. We'll let you know if we decide to go ahead. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cunningham."

Outside the building, Kid was morose. "Heyes, we can't afford that."

"I know, Kid. The quality was good, but…" Heyes didn't finish his sentence. "Maybe the other place will be cheaper."

=0=0=0=

The sign above the second print shop on Bannock Street indicated it would also be too expensive. Nevertheless, the two men entered the establishment.

Heyes and Kid walked in and turned to take a closer look at the artwork displayed on the walls. Mouths dropped open and they stared in horror.

"Heyes, we gotta get outta here!"

"I know, but we've been spotted. We can't just leave now; it'll look too strange."

A man in rumpled clothes, a white apron with black stains covering his shirt, was coming towards them.

"We'll just have to tell our story and hope he doesn't notice."

"Hope you polished that silver tongue of yours real well this morning," Kid muttered.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I'm Bradley Evans, welcome. How can I help you?"

Only Kid noticed Heyes' nervousness as he replied, "Sir, you were recommended to us by Mr. Field of _The Denver Tribune_." As he repeated their story, he hoped he sounded like a businessman and not a con man.

"I see you've noticed what we call our Wall of Fame," Evans chuckled. "We specialize in creating portraits and posters and we do a lot of work for the local law. Tell me, which one do you like the most?" he asked, pointing to the wanted posters prominently displayed in front of them, including those of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, right there for all to see.

Kid shuddered involuntarily and subtly moved to block Evans' view.

Heyes was tempted to pick out Kid's but he knew that was just asking for trouble.

"Uh," he paused to think of how to answer. "We don't have a lot of experience with outlaws."

"We're law-abidin', peaceable folk, Mr. Evans," Kid added.

"Oh come now. You must pick one, each of you. We ask everyone who comes in here to choose one, and we keep a list of the most popular wanted posters. It's something we're known for," Evans said proudly. "Why, the good citizens of Denver come here just to see who's #1 on our list each month!"

"You don't say!" Heyes gushed, as Evans completely missed the silent conversation going on between his two potential clients.

Forced to make a selection, both Kid and Heyes pointed to a poster with a picture and description of a murderer wanted for killing hostages during a bank robbery.

"Interesting choice," Evans said. "We're certainly proud of the picture, but not many people pick him. Too violent, you understand."

Heyes couldn't stop himself. "So who's #1 on your list now?" He was beginning to enjoy himself and he didn't dare look at Kid.

"I have the list right here." Evans walked over to a desk at the back of the room. Kid breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped away from the wall of disaster and glared at Heyes as Evans picked up a piece of paper.

"Let's see. Oh yes, for the past two months, our top outlaw has been Kid Curry." This time, Heyes glared and Kid smiled grimly, not especially appreciating this claim to fame.

"Really? I would've thought the leader of that gang, what's their name? Oh yeah, the Devil's Hole Gang…Hannibal Heyes, isn't it…would be the most popular." Heyes didn't have to fake looking puzzled.

In Kid's opinion, Heyes was really pushing it and they were going to have a talk real soon.

"Well, apparently, all the ladies who come in choose Mr. Curry. Though he is a gunslinger, he also has the reputation of being a real gentleman. And we have a lot of ladies come in; they order portraits of their children," Evans explained.

Kid's expression turned smug. "I can see how that'd make a difference," he said. "And from what I've heard about that other fella, Hannibal Heyes is it?… His plans don't always work out and he can't get anything done without Kid Curry helping him."

Heyes narrowed his eyes as he stared at Kid, who looked back blandly.

Evans was oblivious to the undercurrent between the two men. "I believe you gentlemen came in about a commission?" He steered the conversation back to business.

"I don't think you can help us, after all," Heyes said. "The job we have is completely different from the work you do here. But maybe you could give us a recommendation for another print shop? All we need is someone who can design an advertisement."

"I see. You might try the Denver Art Association on Champa Street," Evans suggested. "It's a school and a gallery but they also have a small print business. You might find what you're looking for there. Good day, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones." He returned to his desk, no longer interested in them since they wouldn't be adding to his company's profits.

Once outside, Kid grabbed Heyes' arm and hissed, "What were you thinkin'? What if he recognized us?"

"Not likely, Kid. A man like that'd never make the connection. We look too respectable to be those notorious outlaws. It's a good thing I made you wear that suit."

Kid grimaced. "I about had a heart attack when I saw those wanted posters on that wall. Why'd you have to go and keep talkin' about them?"

"Evans might've gotten suspicious if we didn't look interested. Besides, didn't you want to know who's first on that list of theirs?" Heyes shook his head. "Guess there's no accounting for taste."

"Don't let it get to you, Heyes." Kid grinned. He was going to enjoy annoying his partner about it at every possible opportunity.

As they walked in the direction of Champa Street, Heyes had a brilliant idea. He pulled Kid into a side street where they wouldn't be overheard.

"Kid, I've just thought of the perfect design! We can make it look like a wanted poster!"

"What? Are you outta your mind?"

"No, it's a great idea! This is what we'll do. At the top, we'll put 'Wanted: A Good Sheriff.' Then, in the middle, we'll have a picture of Lom. Underneath, we'll list all the reasons Lom should be reelected sheriff. It's perfect!"

"Heyes, that's the stupidest thing I ever heard you say! What do you think Lom'll do when he sees it?"

"He'll like it."

"No, he won't. This election is serious, Heyes. He's got a strong opponent and we can't do anything that'll risk his losin'. He won't appreciate anything that reminds people he used to be an outlaw."

Kid stood with his arms folded against his chest, ready to argue with Heyes. The reelection of Lom Trevors, Sheriff of Porterville, friend of and advocate for Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, was of the utmost importance to both of them, and Kid wasn't about to let Heyes jeopardize Lom's chances. If Lom lost, their chance at amnesty could very well be lost, too.

=0=0=0=

When they had first heard about the election, Heyes and Kid had assumed Lom would easily win again. But this time, Lom told them on one of their visits to Porterville, he faced an opponent who argued that it was time for a change, that after eight years, Porterville needed a sheriff with new ideas.

Heyes and Kid were shocked. Lom had done a good job of keeping the peace in his town, and they thought the citizens of Porterville needed to be reminded of that.

When Heyes had first proposed helping Lom, Kid was initially hesitant. Then Heyes had asked him, "What do you think will happen if Lom doesn't win?"

"I guess Lom'll have to find another job. Maybe the Governor will appoint him to be a marshal or something."

"I mean, what do you think will happen to us?"

"Well…hmm," Kid stopped. He finally understood what Heyes was getting at. "You mean, who'll do our talking for us with the Governor."

"Yeah, Kid. That's exactly what I mean."

So Heyes had devised a plan to get their friend reelected, and Kid threw himself wholeheartedly into making the plan work. But they knew Lom wouldn't agree to it so they kept it a secret from him.

Heyes had enjoyed doing the research in libraries to find out the laws regulating political campaigns. Apparently anyone could contribute as much money to the candidates as they wanted, but the candidates themselves had to pay for all political advertisements. As a result, Heyes and Kid had to convince Lom to give them $1,000 to finance their plan. Reluctantly, he had.

Heyes figured that getting 500 campaign posters made in Denver would be enough to guarantee Lom's reelection. He already had a plan for giving one poster to every family and business in Porterville. The tricky part would be getting the posters back to Porterville and distributing them without Lom knowing who was responsible.

=0=0=0=

And now Heyes wanted to play with their future. Kid wasn't going to stand for it. Nope, not one little bit.

"Heyes, we are NOT gonna make a wanted poster of Lom. Is that clear?" He stared at his partner until Heyes finally nodded his head. "We'll find someone at this Art Association. They're students; they've gotta be cheaper. We'll hire someone who can help us with a design. We'll get the posters made. We'll send them back to Porterville like we agreed and then finish the plan. All right?"

Heyes still wanted a Lom Trevors wanted poster. He was sure the sheriff would be amused. Maybe he could get one made without Kid knowing. "You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Heyes, when it comes to the amnesty, I'm not in a jokin' mood."

=0=0=0=

The Denver Art Association didn't have a big sign on the door; in fact, Heyes and Kid might have walked right past the building if they hadn't been looking for it. They went inside and cautiously looked around the large room, which was evidently a gallery as paintings of all sizes were hanging on the walls. Real paintings, as well as advertisements for various household products. And not one wanted poster. They both gave a sigh of relief and let their eyes survey the room more thoroughly.

The next thing they noticed was that all the people they could see were women. Heyes and Kid sighed even more happily.

As they stood appreciating the view, a smartly-dressed woman holding a sketchpad and pencil approached them. "May I help you, gentlemen?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am, I certainly hope so." Kid gave his partner an almost imperceptible nod to go ahead. Better to keep the stories the same in case any of these people ran into each other and talked about the two gold miners from Hahns Peak. Besides, Kid knew Heyes could charm anyone into believing whatever he wanted them to believe.

Mrs. Kingsley, the director of the art school, said, "Yes, I believe we can assist you. Please come with me." She led them into another room filled with young ladies intently painting pictures from rough sketches.

"Now, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones, I need to know exactly what the poster is for, so I can find the right artist for you." Mrs. Kingsley waited for a reply.

"Well, ma'am, it's like this," Heyes began. "We have a friend and we want to help him with something but we have only a limited amount of money." He and Kid waited for Mrs. Kingsley's reaction.

She didn't disappoint them. "Gentlemen, I'm sure we can reach an agreement on the cost. The Denver Art Association provides training to young ladies who desire to learn how to draw and paint. You saw our gallery out front. We have monthly exhibitions where our students display their work and all of it is for sale. Unfortunately," Mrs. Kingsley continued, "We don't have too many visitors. In fact, you two are the first this week."

Heyes and Kid found that hard to believe. Not only the paintings but the artists were beautiful, and they would gladly visit every day if they lived in Denver.

"However," Mrs. Kingsley went on, "A few of Denver's leading citizens have a more enlightened view of what women are able to accomplish, and they support our efforts. Our benefactors provide funding for our school, and they helped us establish a small print shop where some of our more talented students can earn money by taking on private commissions. But not many people want to hire ladies so the print shop isn't really a profit-making business. Mostly, it just gives our students more practice in developing their artistic skills."

Kid could tell his partner had decided they would have the posters made here. Kid also thought this was the right place, and not just because the cost would be right.

"In that case, Mrs. Kingsley, I'm sure we'll be able to reach a satisfactory agreement." Heyes gave her the details of what they needed done.

"Sheriff Trevors is a lucky man to have such good friends as you," Mrs. Kingsley said.

Heyes and Kid thought it was the other way around. "We reckon we're lucky to have a friend like him, ma'am," Heyes said, "And Porterville is lucky to have him for their Sheriff."

"And we want to do our best to keep it that way," Kid added.

"Yes, I can see that. Well, here's what I think we should do. You can work with one of our students and tell her exactly what you need. She can design two or three sketches and you can select the one you like best. Then we'll get it printed for you. Including the sketches, the cost for printing five hundred copies will be $900.00."

Kid looked at Heyes in dismay. This was the same price they'd been given at the first print shop, although that was for only one hundred copies. But the cost was still too high.

Mrs. Kinglsey noted the look that passed between the two men. She didn't want to lose the job. Before Heyes even started to negotiate, she said, "Since this is an unusual request, I think perhaps I can give you a better price. Let's make it $850.00."

Fifteen minutes later, they had agreed to pay $750.00.

"Now, who would be best for this?" Mrs. Kingsley mused. She swept her eyes around the room, touching on all the students busy at work. They finally landed on a blond-haired young lady. "Rosina, dear, would you come here, please?"

"Gentlemen, this is Miss Rosina Chain, one of our most promising students. Rosina, this is Mr. Smith and this is Mr. Jones. They have a private commission for you. Why don't you take the gentlemen over to your desk and discuss things there."

"Ma'am, I saw only two paintings in the gallery with Miss Chain's name on them. Has she been studying art for very long?" Heyes wasn't sure that Rosina was the best choice for them.

Kid noticed that Mrs. Kingsley was about to take offense, as she understood what Heyes was really asking. Quickly, he tried to soothe her. "Don't mind my partner, Mrs. Kingsley," he said, glaring at Heyes. "As long as she's a good artist, it don't matter how many paintings she's done. I reckon you wouldn't have recommended her if you didn't think she had the talent. I'm sure everything will be fine."

Kid turned his smile on Mrs. Kingsley and she succumbed to its effect. "Yes, of course. I understand your reservations but really, Rosina does know how to draw. Only two of her paintings are on display because the other six have already been sold."

Somewhat subdued, Heyes followed Kid and Rosina back to her work area. She sat down in her chair and the men remained standing, as there were no other chairs to sit in.

Rosina studied them for a few moments before speaking. "If you didn't think a student could do good work, then why did you come here?"

Kid grinned. Seeing Heyes flustered by a teenager would have been amusing if the job hadn't been so important.

Before his partner could make things worse, Kid spoke to Rosina. "Miss, I'm sure your work is wonderful. Maybe you could show us some of the things you've done, so we can see how good you are?"

Rosina allowed herself to be persuaded by the young man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She would certainly enjoy drawing his portrait—those eyes, that curly blond hair. Maybe she could convince him to sit for her while he was in town. She decided that she liked Mr. Jones a lot.

Rosina gave him a big smile. "I'd be delighted to." She took out her portfolio and opened it to the first page.

"I apologize, Miss Chain," Heyes said sincerely. "Your work is excellent." Heyes gave her one of his looks that usually charmed, but she ignored him.

"We sure got lucky when Mrs. Kingsley chose you to help us with our job," Kid said.

Rosina gave him a dazzling smile. "Thank you, Mr. Jones. It'll be my pleasure to help you."

Heyes looked from Rosina to Kid. He saw what was going on and he didn't like it.

"All right, then. Now that we've cleared things up, let's get down to work. This is what we'd like to do…" Heyes explained in detail what they wanted. As he talked, Rosina nodded her head and made notes. When he finished, Heyes looked at her expectantly.

Rosina directed her remarks to Kid. "That's very clear. If you come back tomorrow afternoon, I'll have a few preliminary sketches ready for you. You can tell me if you like them or if you want something in a different style."

"That'll be fine, Miss Chain. Thank you." Kid was very happy at the way things were going. Heyes politely added his thanks and then they left, relieved that they had finally found a place that could do their job.

"Kid…" Heyes began, once they were on the street and walking back to their hotel.

"Don't even bother, Heyes." Kid knew what he was going to say, and didn't want to hear it. He did in fact agree with Heyes, but he certainly wasn't going to admit it.

"What? How do you know what I'm going to say?"

"'Cos I know you and I know that look."

"Fine. If you already know, then I don't need to tell you how foolish it'd be."

"That's right; you don't." Kid paused. "But it seems to me like you just did anyway."

Heyes smiled, knowing he'd made his point about Rosina Chain and that Kid wouldn't let things get out of hand.

=0=0=0=

In the evening, they engaged in the profitable pursuit of poker at the Criterion Saloon on Larimer Street. Heyes was winning big, Kid was winning more than losing, and both men were satisfied with the results.

Until one of the men at their table got it into his head that Heyes wasn't winning naturally. Kid could see the man's brain working, how it reached the wrong conclusion from the facts in front of him, and he knew what was going to happen next.

Kid looked over at Heyes. Heyes looked back ruefully.

Heyes also knew exactly what was going on. He could see it in the man's face. Sheesh, the man's tells were so obvious the bartender at the other end of the room could see what the man was thinking! Heyes waited calmly for the man to start making even more of a fool of himself. He didn't have to wait long.

Heyes and Kid settled in to play their roles, both knowing how it most likely was going to end up.

"Mister, ain't nobody has that kind of luck!" The fool opened with the standard challenge.

"That's right. It ain't luck. It's skill, my friend. Something you are clearly lacking when it comes to poker."

"You callin' me stupid?"

Kid rolled his eyes. How many times had he heard this over the years?

"No, sir, I'm calling you a lousy poker player and a poor loser. How about you just take your money and leave. No one else thinks…"

Here it comes, thought Kid. He kept his eyes on the fool.

"I think you're cheatin'!"

Kid could almost laugh if he didn't know what he was probably going to be doing soon.

"Anyone else think I'm cheating?" Heyes looked at the other men at their table. They all shook their heads.

"See, no one else thinks I'm cheating. I know how to play the odds, is all. I suggest you take your money and go read Hoyle. Maybe you'll learn how to be a better poker player, one of these years." Heyes made the suggestion—the last part heard only by Kid-knowing it was going to be ignored. The fool was too riled up now and didn't want to look like he was backing down.

"Nope. Not me who's gonna leave. You are!" Pointing to Heyes, as if that'd make it so. He stood up, trying to get a height advantage. "Now!"

It didn't work. Heyes remained seated. But the other men pushed their chairs back and began to move away.

"I said you're gonna leave, mister, and I meant it. Now git outta here!"

Heyes was still relaxed. "I don't think so, friend. You're the one making accusations and you can't back them up so I suggest you be the one to leave."

Now comes the threat with the gun, thought Kid.

"Mister, you ain't tellin' me what to do! I ain't leavin' unless you make me!" The fool's hand twitched near his gun.

True to form, the fool was playing his role perfectly. Kid knew it was almost time for his entrance.

Heyes tried one more time to settle things peacefully. "Look, I ain't drawing on you. You made a mistake; I wasn't cheating. I'll accept your apology and then we can forget all about it. What do you say?"

"No. You talk too much and I'm done listenin'. Draw and we'll settle this now."

Kid gave the fool points for adding that bit about talking too much. He slowly stood up. It was his turn now and he took over from Heyes, who sat back to watch the rest of the drama.

"My partner said he ain't gonna draw on you. So I suggest you just take your money and leave, like he told you." Kid's hard-edged voice would warn anyone with more than an ounce of brains, but if the man had brains, he wouldn't be a fool.

"Mister, if you wanna draw for your friend, you go right ahead."

The fool didn't know what he was asking for, thought Heyes grimly.

"No, sir, I don't want to draw." The normal Kid response was given.

And immediately rejected, as he knew it would be. "Looks to me like you do." The fool noticed the tied-down gun for the first time and a shadow of doubt crossed his face.

Heyes saw the fool reconsider for a brief moment. But he knew the fool had crossed the threshold of common sense and wouldn't turn back now no matter what.

Kid continued staring at the fool's eyes. Just so no one would think he wanted to do the inevitable, he made one last attempt to avoid the gunfight. "This doesn't have to happen. Just take your money and go, no hard feelings."

"Mister, now you're talkin' too much. You ready?"

Kid sighed. And waited.

Heyes sighed, never liking what was about to take place.

The fool reached for his gun but found himself staring at Kid's gun instead, pointed straight at him before his fingers had even touched the butt of his weapon.

The man looked at Kid in shock. He didn't look much like a fool now, Kid and Heyes both thought, just a man who realized he was lucky to be alive. He grabbed his money and left.

"Time for us to leave as well, boys," Heyes said. He and Kid gathered up their winnings and exited the saloon. No one talked to them on their way out but they heard a lot of murmuring and knew they couldn't go back there any time soon. At least he'd won enough money to pay Lom back, Heyes thought, although his satisfaction had vanished the moment Kid had stood up to try and prevent the impending showdown.

=0=0=0=

"Heyes, why does this keep happening to us?" Kid was lying on his bed, boots off and feet stretched out, hands behind his head, gun belt slung over the bedpost as usual.

Heyes shrugged. "I guess we're being penalized for excellence, Kid."

"Well, can you maybe NOT be such a good poker player next time?"

"Next time? How do you know there's going to be a next time?"

"'Cos I know you, Heyes, and you can't help it. Trust me, there's gonna be a next time."

"Well, maybe YOU don't need to put on such a show with your gun next time, huh? Ever think about that?"

"Nope. 'Cos if I didn't back you up, there really wouldn't be a next time."

"Nice of you to have such faith in your partner, Kid."

"Anytime, Heyes, anytime."

Heyes went back to reading his book. Kid lay on the bed a while longer, then got up and cleaned his gun. Again.

"Will you quit doing that?"

"What? I gotta keep my gun clean. You know that."

"You don't need to clean it twice in one hour, do you?"

"Fine. I'll clean yours instead." Kid reached out his hand to get it from Heyes.

"It don't need to be cleaned. It wasn't my gun that was used tonight."

"My point exactly, Heyes. When was the last time you cleaned it?"

Heyes glared at Kid. Kid glared back.

Heyes sighed and closed his book. "Kid, I know you're worried. So am I. We got to do whatever we can to make sure Lom gets reelected. But getting proddy with me ain't going to help matters any."

"I know." Kid sighed and put his own gun back in its holster. "But what if something goes wrong?"

"Don't worry, Kid. Rosina's got talent. When the people in Porterville see all the good things Lom's done, why, they'll want to reelect him. That man running against him doesn't have a chance. Nothing'll go wrong, trust me."

Kid shook his head. He wanted to believe. He really did. But he was skeptical. Whenever things seemed to be going well, bad luck just up and found them. And the day's events hadn't exactly all been positive.

"I hope you're right, Heyes." Kid turned down the lamp and got ready for bed.

Heyes did the same on his side of the room after first checking that the door and windows were locked securely. He went to sleep and dreamed of wanted posters with Lom's name on them.

=0=0=0=

When they met Rosina the next afternoon, she had three sketches ready. "Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith, I drew these sketches for you based on your specifications." She spread them out so they could easily compare them. "I can do more, if you don't like them," she added hastily, when she saw Heyes and Kid hesitate.

"Oh, no, Miss Chain. They're all wonderful," Heyes reassured her.

"It's just that it's hard to decide which is the best one," added Kid with a smile.

Rosina smiled back. "In that case, please take your time. I have other work to do, so I'll let you discuss it in private." She walked over to another desk and started drawing.

Heyes pointed to the sketch on the right. "That's the one, Kid. It's the best. It's short and to the point. People will remember it."

Kid took another look at the sketch. He knew Heyes liked it because it was similar to the wanted poster he'd mentioned the day before. On the first line it read: Porterville Wants… The next line said: Sheriff Lom Trevors. And the last line had just one word, in big letters: Reelected!

It was not Kid's favorite. "I dunno, Heyes. I think this one is better." He pointed to the middle sketch. "We can write in why Lom should be reelected. I think the people in Porterville need to be reminded of all the good things he's done."

Heyes considered the sketch. He had to admit it was good. The top line said: Five Reasons to Reelect, and right under it the second line continued with: Sheriff Lom Trevors. Then the numbers one to five were listed; clearly the reasons for reelecting the sheriff were to be written in there.

But Heyes really liked the almost-wanted poster. Perhaps Rosina would let him keep the sketch and he could get her to draw a picture of Lom on it. Better yet, he'd have Kid ask her since it was clear Rosina favored Kid, for some unknown reason.

"That's true, Kid. So let's include a list of reasons but use the top part from the first sketch instead. That'll catch people's attention. It'll be like this." Heyes took a pencil from the desk and quickly wrote "Reelect Lom Trevors" at the top of a piece of paper. Under that, he wrote "The Perfect Sheriff for Porterville." Then he wrote the numbers one to five below that.

Kid nodded. "That's good, Heyes."

"The only thing is," Heyes paused and stared at what he'd written, "I'm not sure I can think of five reasons the good people of Porterville should reelect Lom."

"Sure you can. Put that genius brain to work!"

Kid knew Heyes was disappointed they weren't going to use the wanted poster sketch but he also knew Heyes was figuring out a way to make sure Lom saw it at some point. Kid wasn't sure he wanted to be there when Heyes showed it to him. He had to get Heyes to stop thinking about that and start thinking about the new poster instead.

"Well, the first reason is…" Heyes pushed his hat back and looked from Kid to the poster. He shrugged. "How about… He kept those notorious outlaws Heyes and Curry from robbing the Porterville Bank?"

Kid rolled his eyes. "And how is he supposed to have done that? You still set on remindin' folk he rode with us?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, you think of something, then!"

"Fine. How's this? Reason #1 is… He keeps the peace in Porterville."

"I like it. That's got a nice ring to it. What's your second reason?"

"How about… He treats everyone fairly."

"It's a little general but okay. What's another reason?"

"Well, that's two. Now it's your turn, Heyes." Kid waited while Heyes thought.

"The food in his jail is good?"

"What is wrong with you, Heyes?" Kid hissed. "Do you WANT him to lose?"

"No, of course not." Heyes shook his head. "I guess I'm just having a hard time seeing things from the right side of the law."

"Well, try harder!"

"I am trying! Don't get proddy!"

"All right, maybe we just need three reasons." Kid tried to pacify Heyes. "What about… He catches criminals quickly."

"That's good," Heyes approved. "You can be a writer on our newspaper after all when we get the amnesty!"

Kid snorted. He liked to write even less than he liked to read.

They called Rosina back and she drew a new sketch while they waited. When she finished, Heyes and Kid approved the design. Then they made arrangements to have five hundred copies of the poster printed. Heyes put down a deposit and they were told everything would be ready by early afternoon of the following day.

On their way out, they stopped by Rosina's desk to thank her again. At Heyes' prompting, Kid asked if they could keep the other sketches. "We'd really appreciate it if you would give us the other sketches. I'm sure you understand how confidential this is and we want to make sure no one else ever sees them." Kid smiled when Rosina hesitated. "And we'd also like to have them because you drew them yourself, Miss Chain."

"Well…" Rosina gave in to Kid's smile. "It's not standard practice but I suppose I could make an exception once in a while." She smiled back at Kid.

"I have one more favor to ask you, Miss Chain," Kid began. "Mr. Smith and I would like you to do one more drawing for us." Kid told her what they wanted. "So if we described our friend, you could draw his picture, couldn't you? Of course, we'd pay you extra for doing it. Would fifteen dollars be satisfactory?"

Rosina looked at the two men and wondered. They seemed honest enough but it was an unusual request. Well, she could always use the extra money. "All right," she agreed. "I have some time now so please, tell me what your friend looks like."

As Heyes and Kid described Lom—short dark hair, dark eyes, mustache—Rosina quickly sketched a picture. After making several small adjustments to his facial features, the men pronounced the picture accurate.

Again they praised her work, and Rosina was pleased she was able to help them, especially Mr. Jones. She gave them the sketches and they returned to their hotel.

=0=0=0=

Promptly at one o'clock the next day, Heyes and Kid arrived to pick up their posters. They were met by Mrs. Kingsley, who ushered them to a vacant desk where they could examine the finished work. "I hope everything meets with your approval, gentlemen," she said, waiting for them as they looked through all the posters, which were stacked in five bundles of one hundred each.

"Yes, everything looks in order, thank you." Heyes said, carefully tidying up the papers in front of him.

"Miss Chain is an excellent artist," Kid added. "We're very satisfied with the work she did." He handed over the balance of money they owed.

"Thank you, Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones," Mrs. Kingsley beamed. "Let me get this wrapped up for you and then we'll be all set." She beckoned to Rosina, who'd been watching from her desk and now came over.

Mrs. Kingsley gave the posters to Rosina, who wrapped them in old newspapers and then tied the package tightly with cord. Heyes thanked her, as did Kid, and with one last smile at Kid, Rosina returned to her desk and her next commission.

Kid picked up the package and he and Heyes left the Denver Art Association, already thinking about the next step in their plan.

=0=0=0=

"What are you worrying about, Kid? It's only 2:30; we got plenty of time!"

Kid didn't answer, just got off his horse and tied the reins to the hitching rail in front of the post office. He'd been concerned that they wouldn't get there in time for the posters to be sent out on that day's stage but now that he and Heyes had made it across town without mishap, he breathed a sigh of relief.

They went in and made the arrangements to have their package sent to Porterville. The posters were now in a sturdy box Heyes had bought to protect them from the elements.

"It's very important this gets delivered directly to the address here," Kid said to the clerk, pointing to the label on the box.

"That'll be twenty dollars, sir," the clerk told him.

"How much? That's robbery!" Heyes hid a grin as Kid tried, unsuccessfully, to negotiate a lower price. Grudgingly, Kid handed over the money. "For that price, I expect it to arrive in perfect condition!" Kid stared at the clerk, who was used to customers' unreasonable demands and generally ignored them.

"Come on, Thaddeus." Heyes and Kid walked across the street to the stage depot and sat down, casually looking around the room and taking note of the people who seemed to be likely passengers. No one looked suspicious. A few minutes later, a post office employee carried a mailbag over to the waiting stagecoach and handed it off to the driver, who fastened it securely to the top of the vehicle.

At 3:05, the stage driver called everyone to board. He stepped onto the roof and caught the various-sized valises the passengers threw up to him, tying them carefully so they wouldn't fall off during the upcoming trip. Heyes and Kid watched as six people climbed into the stagecoach.

At precisely 3:20, the stagecoach departed on its regular route to Wyoming. Heyes and Kid would soon be riding behind it, out of sight, all the way. Heyes gave Kid back his saddlebags and bedroll, now that his horse wasn't loaded down with the heavy posters anymore.

"Let's go send the telegram," Heyes said to Kid.

The telegraph office was conveniently located down the street from the stage depot so they walked over. Heyes picked up a pencil and paper and quickly wrote a message.

"How's this? To Miss Porter, care of Porterville Bank, Porterville, Wyoming. Package arriving afternoon stage in four days. Will collect as discussed. J. Smith and T. Jones."

Kid read it over his shoulder. "It's a good thing we talked to her before we left, Heyes. It's mighty nice of Miss Porter to let us send the posters to the bank and all."

"Well, we can't send them to her house; we don't want her father or any servants wondering what's in the package. Much more natural for a delivery like that to go to the bank. And why wouldn't she help, Kid? She knows Lom is good for Porterville. Besides, I think she likes him. You've seen how she looks at him."

Heyes laughed at Kid's expression. "You don't think she still likes you, do you? After you left her standing in the street at night? Not the most gentlemanly thing to do, you know."

Kid scowled. "Just send it, Heyes."

=0=0=0=

For two days, Heyes and Kid followed the stage at a distance as it traveled north out of Colorado and into Wyoming. The road they were on was well-used so even if the stagecoach driver spotted them behind him, there was nothing to make him suspicious since many other riders were going in the same direction. They had ridden this road many times and knew all the places they could hide, if that became necessary.

"You know, Heyes," Kid turned to look at his partner riding behind him. It was mid-morning on the third day. With the sun climbing the sky and the horses steadily climbing the mountains, Kid was in a good mood. They were more than halfway to their destination and he was looking forward to spending the night in a cabin he knew they'd reach before nightfall. "Maybe we could catch us a rabbit or somethin' for dinner. Sure would make a nice change from beans and jerky."

Heyes agreed but, ever cautious, said, "Let's wait and see how things are going later in the day. If they hear gunshots now, it might scare them and we don't want to give ourselves away."

"I suppose you're right," Kid sighed. "But I'm gettin' awfully bored. That stage is goin' real slow. We been ridin' for almost three whole days now. I could've walked to Porterville faster!"

"Kid, how you can have the patience to practice shooting a gun for hours on end but not for a nice leisurely ride through the Rocky Mountains in beautiful weather is beyond me!" Heyes was only half teasing his cousin. He really did find it hard to believe Kid wasn't appreciating the scenery. They rarely had the luxury to enjoy the landscape they rode through; too often a posse or bounty hunter was chasing them and they had to gallop as fast as their horses could to escape being captured. Today, though, was different and Heyes wanted to savor every moment.

"That's different."

"How?"

"I need to practice my fast draw so I don't lose my skill. I don't need to practice lookin' at trees and mountains."

"Sure you do! If you don't take a real good look at them, you can't appreciate what you're seeing! I think you need to practice enjoying nature, Kid."

"I'll let you enjoy nature for the both of us, Heyes. I'd rather enjoy a soft bed and a warm bath any day over a hard bedroll and a cold wash in a stream."

"What, you can't compromise once in a while? It's beautiful, Kid! Just look around you!" Heyes swept his arm around in an arc, trying to make Kid see the scenery from his perspective.

What Kid saw was five men on horseback riding out of the forest just where Heyes' hand pointed.

"Heyes!" Kid's whisper immediately caught his partner's attention. "What do you suppose they're doin'?"

"I don't know, but I don't think we want them to see us." He steered his horse off the road and into the cover of the trees. Kid was right behind him.

They watched as the men made their way onto the road and then disappeared as they cantered away from them.

Heyes had a bad feeling. Kid did too, and said, "I don't like this. We need to see what they're up to."

"Yeah, I agree. Come on." They moved back onto the road and rode after the five strangers.

A short while later, they saw the stagecoach at a standstill. The men had surrounded the stage and, pointing their guns, forced the passengers outside.

Heyes and Kid walked their horses off the road and slowly and quietly drew closer, under cover of the trees.

"I don't believe it!" Kid moaned, remembering all the other bad luck they'd had with stagecoaches.

Heyes was shaking his head, also at a loss to comprehend why this was happening to them. "Do you think it's payback? I mean, we robbed all those trains but never a stagecoach so now…"

"So now the stages are gettin' even with us? And you say my ideas are ridiculous!"

"Well, if you put it like that..."

"Yeah, Heyes, it's just bad luck."

Heyes shaded his eyes against the sun and groaned as he saw the men throw everything from the roof of the stage onto the ground. "There they go!"

"That's just great." Kid watched as the men slung the mailbag and the passengers' belongings over their horses, tied them down, and rode off into the woods. "Now what? Do we go after them or check on the passengers?"

"We go after them. You know the driver'll tell the sheriff in the next town and they'll get a posse after them. We can't be around when they come looking."

Kid agreed. "All right. We'll track them ourselves." Kid didn't want to think about what would happen if the posse recovered the stolen goods and saw the posters for Lom's reelection. That could spoil everything. Actually, so would being caught by the posse.

Now that the danger was over, the passengers reboarded the stage and the driver climbed back into his seat. He slapped the reins and the horses took off.

=0=0=0=

"You see anything?" Heyes was stooped over, searching for signs of the outlaws. He and Kid hadn't had too much difficulty following the five men. But the afternoon was turning to dusk and the trail was getting harder to see.

"Shush!" Kid scanned the ground carefully.

"Shush? You need eyes for tracking, Kid, not ears." Heyes repeated, more insistently, "You see anything?"

"No wonder I'm a better tracker than you," Kid muttered.

"You say something?"

Kid continued to concentrate on the ground. "Nope. Shush."

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Heyes stood up and climbed back onto his horse.

Kid went back to where the trail was visible and retraced his steps to where Heyes was waiting. He then got down on his hands and knees and very thoroughly looked at the path and the vegetation on either side. Finally, he noticed something that wasn't natural and he examined it more closely. "Over here, Heyes. This way."

With Kid in the lead, they slowly continued on their way. Every so often, Kid stopped to look around and make sure they were still following the trail of the outlaws.

The sky darkened from blue to orange and red to a deeper shade of blue. The noises from the forest changed as well. Suddenly Kid stopped.

Heyes rode up to his side. "What?"

"I hear something."

"So do I. It's the night animals, Kid."

"No. There's something else. Shush."

"Oh, not that again!"

"You want to get those posters back or not, Heyes?"

There was a frustrated nod of the dark-haired head.

"Then be quiet and let me listen!"

"All right, then, listen!" Heyes listened, too, as his partner turned to him with a decided lack of patience clearly showing on his face.

"Heyes. When you cracked a safe, you needed silence, right? You couldn't hear the tumblers unless it was absolutely quiet, right? And I was quiet while you worked, right?"

There was a nod of sullen agreement.

"Well, now I need you to be silent so I can hear what's going on. I think I heard voices but I'm not sure. So will you please be quiet and let me do my job now?"

Heyes stopped talking and waited.

A few minutes later, Kid had a smile on his face as he said, "Yup, they're up ahead. Sounds like they've made camp for the night."

Now that it'd been pointed out to him, Heyes could hear, barely, men's voices. But to be able to tell what they were doing, no, his ears couldn't make that out. He was unsurpassed at distinguishing faint, up-close sounds, in contrast to Kid who, evidently, was excellent at picking apart sounds at a distance. No wonder they made such a good team.

They tied their horses to some trees and crept closer on foot. They saw the five men sitting around a smoldering campfire, eating dinner.

Heyes and Kid looked at each other. Kid spoke first. "Not even Kyle would be that stupid!"

"So how you want to play it, Kid?" Heyes deferred to his partner in matters where gunplay might be involved.

Kid took his time before answering. He didn't think Heyes would like his plan. "I think you should go talk to them."

"Huh? And say what? Give me back the mailbag, please? How's that going to accomplish anything?"

"Sheesh, Heyes! You're the one with the silver tongue! Use it!"

"There's five of them, Kid, in case you hadn't noticed."

It was obvious to Kid that his partner was not impressed with his idea.

Heyes continued to point out the deficits in Kid's plan. "I don't think they're going to just give me the mailbag 'cos I asked them nicely. And we may not know them but what if one of them recognizes me?"

"Well, take advantage then! Tell them the whole Devil's Hole Gang is waitin' on you and if you don't get back soon with the mailbag and other stuff, they're goin' to come in after you!"

Heyes considered. "I suppose that means you, huh?"

"Yup. There's only five of them, remember?"

"I'm not likely to forget, am I? Seeing as how I'm walking into the lion's den here." Heyes checked his gun and ammunition. "So where will you be?"

As Heyes was talking, Kid had been surveying the area to select the best place to keep his partner covered while he remained hidden. He pointed to his left. "Over there."

"All right," Heyes sighed. "Here goes."

He walked nonchalantly through the trees and into the sight of the outlaws.

=0=0=0=

Five guns were instantly pointed at Heyes, who immediately stood still and raised his hands.

"Take it easy, fellas," he soothed. "No need for that." He looked around, trying to see all the faces clearly. "Can I put my hands down, please?" He slowly started to lower his arms.

"Put 'em back up and keep 'em up, Heyes," a dark-haired man in a dirty gray hat ordered.

Heyes had a sinking feeling.

"Well, lookee who we got here, boys. It's Hannibal Heyes hisself!" The man stepped into the light of the fire and Heyes got a good look at him. He searched his memory and came up with: Bill Turner. A half-way decent outlaw, meaning not very bright or successful but not mean or double-crossing, either. Maybe he could deal with him after all.

The other men crowded around Heyes. He hoped he was reading the atmosphere correctly.

"Howdy, Bill. It's been a long time. What have you been up to these years?"

"Oh, a little o' this, a little o' that," Turner said noncommittally. "Ain't heard much about you or Kid Curry." He waved his gun, indicating that Heyes could lower his arms, and held it loosely in his hand.

Heyes smiled. The game was on. "Oh, you know how it is. You pull a job, got to stay low for a while."

Turner looked at Heyes thoughtfully, "Reckon it's been a year since we heard anythin' 'bout the Devil's Hole Gang."

"Oh, maybe you're just not reading the right newspapers." Heyes saw that remark didn't go down well and then remembered that Turner wasn't exactly literate. He quickly switched his tone of voice. "Well, we have been pretty quiet lately, taking time to plan some new jobs." Heyes reflected that that was actually true—he and Kid really were planning new jobs; in fact, entirely new lives, if all went well.

He pretended to notice all the carpetbags and carry-alls and the mailbag for the first time. "Hey, what's all this?"

Turner snickered. "Just some things we happened to pick up on our travels. Nothing that'd interest you."

"Oh yeah?" Heyes walked over to the mailbag and kicked it. "This one interests me." He bent over and picked it up.

Turner was suddenly suspicious. "Hey, what are you doin' out here anyway? And where's Curry? You two never went anywhere alone." He peered into the woods but it was too dark to see anything.

"You two," he gestured with his head at two of his men. "Go take a look around. See if you can find Curry."

Heyes was confident that Kid would not be found. Keeping his eyes away from where he was hiding, Heyes answered Turner's question. "The Kid and I split up. We were in Denver," always better to tell the truth when it didn't matter, "But we got recognized so we rode out separately. I have no idea where he is now." That was literally true, too, Heyes told himself, since it was more than likely Kid had changed positions once he saw the two men go looking for him.

Turner wasn't satisfied. "But how'd you get here? Were you following us?" He raised his gun again.

Trying to appease Turner and deflect attention away from the trees, Heyes admitted a little more of the truth. "As a matter of fact, Bill, I was following you. But," he continued rapidly, as the gun now pointed directly at his chest, "I didn't know you were here. I saw the fire and thought maybe I'd find me a nice place to make camp for the night. You know, enjoy a little company, maybe even play some cards. It's lonely out here all by myself." Heyes knew he sounded convincing and hoped Turner would buy it.

The other men waited for their leader to decide what to do.

The gun was gradually lowered. "Mebbe. Mebbe not." Turner made another decision. "Let's see what's in that mailbag you're so interested in."

He reached for it and after a moment's hesitation, Heyes handed it over. He hoped Kid was watching because once the bag was opened, Heyes wasn't sure he'd be able to come up with a story for why the contents were so important to him. Even though Turner wouldn't understand the significance of the posters, Heyes couldn't take the risk that he'd just leave the mailbag and everything in it in the woods when he and his men rode out.

Turner took it over to the fire and sat down, followed by the other men. Heyes joined them, sitting within reach of the bag. He was ready to grab it and run, as soon as he heard Kid make a move.

Turner's hand was on the cord, fumbling to open the mailbag. Heyes didn't let his apprehension show but he was acutely aware of where all five men were sitting and of the distance between him and the forest.

"Well, what have we here?" Turner's surprise was matched by that of the four other men. He saw the box among the letters and opened it, and after unwrapping one of the bundles, held up a stack of posters.

He haltingly read the top line. "Five Rea..sons to Reel..ect. That don't make no sense."

"Gimme that." One of the other men grabbed the paper from Turner's hand and read the whole poster out loud.

Turner looked at Heyes, puzzled. "Now what's so important about that, Heyes?"

"Nothing. Didn't know what was in the mailbag. It just looked like it might have something valuable in it, is all," Heyes lied. He knew he had to come up with a better answer quickly.

"No, there's something about that mailbag. You went right for that, Heyes, and nothing else." Turner eyed him for a moment, and then he smiled. "Let's find out just how important it is, shall we?"

Heyes tensed. He didn't know what was coming but from the look in Turner's eyes, it couldn't be good.

With one fluid movement, Turner suddenly stood up and tossed the bundle of posters into the fire.

An involuntary "No!" escaped from Heyes as he tried to grab the posters before they were consumed by the flames.

He did not succeed and then he realized that five guns were now pointing at him. He sank back down onto the ground.

"So I'll ask you again, Heyes, what's so important about them papers?" This time, Turner's tone of voice wasn't as friendly.

Heyes didn't answer.

"Get up." With five guns on him, Heyes slowly did as he was told, inching towards the mailbag once he was standing.

"Put your hands behind your back," Turner ordered. "Them papers are important and I wanna know why. So you're gonna stay here until you tell us." He waved one of his men over to come and tie Heyes' hands.

Before he could do so, Heyes grabbed the mailbag and ran, zig-zagging towards the trees. He heard bullets whiz by him but it took him only a minute to reach the cover of the woods.

He looked back and saw four men down, including Turner, and realized the bullets had been flying in both directions. He hadn't noticed during his dash to the trees.

He set the mailbag down and withdrew his gun from his holster. Then he walked back to the fire and met his partner already there, pointing his gun at the fifth man who now had his hands in the air. "How are they?" Heyes asked, nodding to the men on the ground.

"They'll live. Only grazed them; nothin' serious." Kid looked at his partner. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Heyes knew Kid didn't need him to say it, but he did anyway. "Thanks."

"What do you want to do with them?" Kid asked.

"They'll be all right for a while without a doctor?" Heyes checked.

"Not a problem," Kid confirmed.

"Then let's tie them up and leave them here." Heyes walked away from the men, not wanting them to hear the rest of it. "We'll take the mailbag, find the posse and give them the mail, and let them know the rest of the passengers' belongings are here."

"WHAT?"

"Don't worry, Kid." Heyes laughed at his expression. "I got it all figured out. The posse can't be that hard to find. I'll pretend I was traveling behind the stage and saw what happened, and decided to follow the outlaws 'cos I knew it'd take the posse too long to find their trail."

Kid was skeptical. "And just how many honest citizens you know would do such a thing?"

"Well, at least one—me!Anyway, I'll tell them I found the passengers' things and the mailbag but there was no sign of the outlaws. Since I couldn't carry everything, I thought the best thing to do was bring the mail back and tell the posse where to find the rest of the stuff." Heyes paused to let Kid process the plan so far. "I have urgent business…somewhere…got to figure that part out…and that's why I can't show them the place myself. By the time they find Turner and his gang, we'll be long gone. But just in case there's a problem, you'll be following me and staying hidden in the woods, just like tonight."

Heyes felt he'd redeemed himself with this plan. It was much better than the one he'd just enacted, although, really, since that had been a Kid Curry plan, he'd half-expected a problem. But to give Kid credit, he had managed to pull it off in the end.

=0=0=0=

It didn't take long to find the posse. Nine men riding together usually left a trail even a novice tracker could follow, and Heyes and Kid weren't beginners. They tethered their horses at a distance and quietly crept closer. The posse looked like it was giving its horses a rest; the men were standing on the ground, drinking from canteens and waiting for their lead tracker to point out the direction the outlaws had taken.

"See anyone you know, Kid?"

"Nope. But I can't see everyone. A couple of them ain't lookin' this way." Kid looked at his partner. "What do you want to do?"

"What I want to do is go back and finish off Bill Turner for burning those posters. What I'm gonna do is walk over there and hope they don't shoot me before I can explain." Heyes took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He picked up the mailbag and balanced it over his shoulder. With a half smile to Kid, he started to walk away.

"Wait. We need a code." Kid called him back.

"Huh?"

"A code. In case there's a problem. You say the code word and that's my signal."

"Kid, you been reading too many dime novels."

"You want to take a chance I can't tell you're in trouble and need help? Fine, I'll just wait here for twenty years."

"That's not funny, Kid."

"That's why we need a code."

"Fine. It's your idea, you think of one."

Kid pondered. "How's this? If I hear you say, 'Sheriff Lom Trevors in Porterville ain't goin' to like this,' that'll be my signal to rescue you. But I'm warnin' you, Heyes, I ain't about to go shootin' up a bunch of lawmen."

"Wouldn't expect you to," Heyes responded mildly. "But let's hope it don't come to that."

He adjusted the mailbag on his shoulder and set off. Kid nervously watched him stride towards the posse, knowing that there was little he could really do if the posse decided to take Heyes into custody.

=0=0=0=

Heyes didn't try to hide his presence so it was only a couple minutes later that he found himself standing completely still with his hands in the air, nine rifles pointed at his chest. The mailbag fell to the ground, forgotten, as Heyes tried not to breathe too loudly. His eyes located the sheriff who was leader of the posse and he addressed his remarks to him.

"Howdy, Sheriff. My name's Joshua Smith and I'd like to return some stolen property to you all." Heyes saw the suspicion in the sheriff's face and quickly continued. "I was, uh, riding along the road to Porterville, minding my own business, thinking about seeing my wife and baby girl again after my trip to Denver. When suddenly I heard some screaming up ahead. Well, I thought someone might be in trouble so I rode up to see if I could help but…" Heyes took a chance and shrugged. "I saw some outlaws robbing the stagecoach passengers so I just hid in the forest. There were five of them, you see. I knew," Heyes dropped his gaze to stare at the ground, the very picture of embarrassment, "That I couldn't do anything right then, being outnumbered and all. But," he raised his eyes, "I couldn't let them poor ladies suffer so I just rode on after them outlaws when they was finished with their stealing." A note of vindictiveness crept into his voice. "I just can't abide outlaws, you know? Nasty, evil people, taking things what don't belong to them. I thought it was my God-given duty to try and recover as much as I could of those poor people's belongings. I mean, I knew a posse would be after them but, no offense, Sheriff, I didn't think you'd be able to find them as quickly as me. See, I already had a head start on you, you know?" Now Heyes let a tinge of pride color his voice. "So I trailed those bandits and I found their lair. But there was too many grips and carpetbags and such, so I just took the mailbag instead. And here it is!" Heyes pointed with his head to the bag at his feet.

He waited, hands still in the air but with a smile of eager hopefulness on his face, as the sheriff considered his story.

"All right, Smith. You can put your hands down." The sheriff indicated to the rest of the posse that they could lower their weapons. He, however, kept his gun in his hand. "That's a good story, real good. I've a mind to believe it. You done good to bring the mailbag back but we'll need you to show us where you found it."

"Oh, Sheriff, sir, I'm really very sorry." Heyes allowed an expression of regret to show on his face. "But I really must get back to Porterville. I'm sure my wife is very worried by now. You see, I was supposed to be home two days ago and of course I wasn't able to send word I was delayed and I just know she's worried sick about me. But I'll be glad to tell you how to find the place. I can give you real good directions."

The sheriff wasn't about to be put off. "You there," he called one of the men over. "Ride on into town and send a telegraph to Mrs. Joshua Smith that her husband's helping a posse and he'll be late getting home."

"Oh, no, no, no, no." Thinking rapidly, Heyes tried again to get out of going with the posse. "I'm afraid that just won't do at all. I've also got a very important business transaction to take care of and it can't wait. I'll lose a great deal of money if I'm not there to handle it." Heyes wryly reflected that what he said was, in fact, the actual truth. "Really, sir, I'll tell you exactly how to get there. You don't need me at all, really."

He could see the sheriff waver. "I'm always more than happy to help out the law, sir, really I am. There's nothing I admire more than a sheriff who does his duty well." Since Heyes had met very few sheriffs who did their duty well—except for Lom, of course—he felt absolutely no guilt about making that statement. "But I'm sure you can understand that now I need to take care of my family and business." He gave a look that appealed to the sheriff, man to man.

The sheriff gave in. "All right, Smith. Tell us where you found the mailbags and then you can leave."

Heyes gave detailed directions to the posse. "Good luck, Sheriff. Hope you find them outlaws fast. Don't like to think honest law-abiding folk like me are in danger when we travel around here."

Even as Heyes spoke, the posse was getting back on their horses, tying the mailbag over the rump of one of them. The sheriff said quickly, "Thanks, Smith, you done good," and then rode out with his men.

Heyes let out his breath and walked slowly back to where Kid was waiting.

"So they didn't even question how you managed to carry a heavy mailbag all the way from where Turner and his gang were to here?" Kid started laughing. "You were right, Heyes. I might admire a sheriff who does his duty well, too, but I'm sure glad that sheriff ain't one of them!"

=0=0=0=

After returning the mailbags to the posse, confident that their posters would soon be delivered to Miss Porter, in care of the Bank of Porterville, in Porterville, Wyoming, Kid and Heyes continued on their journey at a leisurely pace.

Two days later, they neared the outskirts of the town. Heyes and Kid found a secluded spot and without talking set up their campsite. Over rabbit stew, they finalized their plan for the evening's activity.

"You been doing all the talking, Heyes, must be plumb wore out, so I'll take first watch." Kid settled himself on a log and started to clean his gun by the dying light of the campfire.

"All right. Wake me in two hours." Heyes closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Kid spent the time thinking about their plan. He knew it was risky but didn't see any alternative that Heyes would agree with. They had to get the posters. The posters were in the bank. Therefore, according to Heyes, they had to break into the bank to get the posters.

He had argued with Heyes about that. Why not just find a boy in the morning, pay him to go to the bank and give a note to Miss Porter asking her to bring the posters to some place where they could safely meet her without being recognized? But no, Heyes didn't like that idea. Not that that was new. Heyes often didn't like his ideas, didn't think they had enough finesse. But Kid didn't like Heyes' idea at all, either. It was just asking for trouble. He knew the only reason Heyes liked it was because it'd give him a thrill to be using his safe-cracking skills again. And that did not please Kid one bit. Kid had to remind himself that this whole idea was a Hannibal Heyes plan and he'd promised himself to let Heyes take the lead. But when it came to something like breaking into a bank, even for a good cause, well then, Kid was sorely tempted to break his promise.

But, two hours later, all he said, as he kicked his partner in the leg, was, "Time to get up, Heyes."

Wide awake as soon as Kid had kicked him, Heyes sat up and nodded. "Good night, Kid. I'll wake you when it's time to go."

Heyes spent the time going over all the details. Heyes knew when Deputy Wilkins made his rounds, so they could time their activity to avoid him. He looked over at his sleeping partner. He knew Kid wasn't keen on breaking into the bank, but he also knew Kid would do his job as look-out. He couldn't ask for a better partner, or friend, and that was why, despite Kid's sometimes openly-expressed doubts, Heyes really did want Lom to be reelected. Sure Heyes wanted the amnesty for himself, but he also wanted it for Kid.

"Get up, Kid." Heyes nudged him with his foot. "Let's go." He had their horses saddled and waited for Kid to join him. They both mounted up and set off for town.

=0=0=0=

It felt like old times. But they also felt more nervous than they ever had when they actually were robbing banks. They knew that if they were caught now, they'd have a very difficult time explaining to Lom what they were doing. Lom would have a hard time believing them. Heck, their story was unbelievable! Two outlaws wanted to reelect a sheriff? Why would anyone believe that?

They rode into Porterville and left the horses a few streets away from the bank. Making their way stealthily through the town, they approached the bank without seeing another person. As Kid swept his eyes around the square in front, Heyes took out his lockpick and quickly opened the front door of the bank. They entered and Kid closed the door behind them.

Heyes grinned at his partner. "Having fun yet, Kid?"

"No, Heyes, and you shouldn't be, either. Let's get the posters and get outta here."

Kid followed Heyes to the back. As expected, the door to Miss Porter's office was locked but Heyes easily opened it.

"I don't see any bundles of posters, Kid. Do you see any bundles of posters?"

Kid turned from his post by the window to look around the office. "No, Heyes, I don't see any bundles of posters," he responded with a loud sigh, knowing his partner was not at all disappointed at this turn of events.

"Well, gee, Kid, I guess I'm just going to have to open that safe over there," said Heyes, pointing to the big, black Magnalock in the corner.

"Then shut up, Heyes, and get on with it." Kid resumed looking out the window, annoyed with Heyes for obviously enjoying the situation and annoyed with himself for secretly enjoying it.

Heyes put his ear to the safe and splayed his fingers around the tumbling mechanism. Slowly twirling the dial, he listened for the familiar clicks. He heard the first tumbler fall into place, then the second. A few minutes later, he heard the third click. Eighteen minutes later, the door was open.

Heyes stuck his hand inside, ready to pull out the first bundle of posters. But his hand did not touch anything like a bundle of posters. He peered inside. The posters weren't there.

"Kid!" Heyes hissed. "We got a problem."

Kid was at his side immediately. Heyes pointed to the safe and Kid looked inside. "Where are the posters?" Kid asked, confused.

"That's a very good question!" Heyes stood up. "Where are our posters?" Annoyed, he pivoted, searching the office. He didn't see any place where they could be.

"You don't think…" Kid hesitated.

"What?"

"You don't think maybe Miss Porter put them in the Pierce & Hamilton, do you? We did tell her they were very important."

Heyes groaned. "I sure hope not. I can't open that safe without blowing it, you know that."

"Yeah. What are we gonna do?"

Heyes sat down in Miss Porter's chair and rubbed his eyes, trying to think. Kid waited patiently.

"All right. Let's go look around the rest of the bank. Maybe she didn't have time to put the posters in the safe." Heyes got up and started pacing. "Maybe the posters just arrived today and she was too busy to put them all away. So where could they be?"

Kid offered another idea for consideration. "Or maybe they arrived in the afternoon and when she saw how many there were, she knew they wouldn't all fit in the safe."

Heyes stopped pacing and realization flooded his face. "Kid, that's it! Now why didn't I think of that?" he asked rhetorically.

Kid answered anyway. "Because, Heyes, you were too busy anticipatin' the pleasure of crackin' a safe again, that's why."

Heyes gave his partner a sheepish grin.

They found all the posters under the assistant manager's desk, stacked neatly in two tall piles. Heyes and Kid carried them all over to the front of the bank and set them down on the floor. Opening the front door a crack, Kid made sure there was no one around.

"What time is it, Heyes?"

Heyes glanced at his pocket watch. "Don't worry, Deputy Wilkins isn't due for another fourteen minutes."

Heyes and Kid divided the bundles between them and tied the posters to their horses; since they'd unloaded their gear in the woods, they wouldn't be overburdening the animals by carrying all the posters with them. Neither man said a word until they reached their campsite.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Heyes asked, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Kid rolled his own eyes back at him. "Not really, no," he sort of lied.

"You know, Kid," Heyes looked at his partner thoughtfully. "You really have changed, you know that?"

"Yeah, it's called goin' straight. You should try it sometime!"

Heyes tossed a hurt glance at the man sitting across from him. "Aw, Kid. We can still have fun even if we're going straight, can't we?"

"Depends on your definition of fun, Heyes. Mine don't include gettin' caught by the only sheriff who's tryin' to help us stay out of the Wyoming Territorial Prison."

Shrugging philosophically, Heyes ended the conversation. "Guess you got a point there, partner."

They sat in silence for a while, then Heyes reminded Kid that their work for the night wasn't finished. "You know we have to tell Miss Porter we got the posters. We can't let her go to the bank tomorrow and find them missing. No telling what she'd do then."

Kid climbed onto his horse and followed Heyes back to town.

=0=0=0=

"Do we know which one is her room?" Kid and Heyes were standing under cover of a tree, looking at the Porter house in the middle of the block and trying to figure out how they could get inside without being seen or heard.

"Not exactly. She said it was on the second floor."

"That narrows it down!" Kid snorted.

"We need to use logic here, Kid. Give me a moment." Heyes contemplated the two-story building. "All right. See that room over there?" He pointed to a corner room.

"Yeah. How do you know it's hers?" Kid remembered another time Heyes had been sure about a room, and had fortunately discovered his error before they'd made a serious mistake.

"Simple. It's the only one that's lit up. Don't you remember? We told her to leave a lamp on so we could find her easily."

Kid wasn't convinced. "Well, yeah, but she was expectin' us two days ago. What makes you think she's still lightin' a lamp for us?"

"Kid, Miss Porter's smart. She knows we're going to get here eventually. Until then, she's probably going to keep a lamp burning every night. Come on."

Heyes ran across the street, Kid a few steps behind. They sidled up to the back of the house, noting the tree that conveniently stood just under Miss Porter's window.

"How much you want to bet she used that tree when she was younger?" Heyes asked.

"That's not something a gentleman usually says about a lady, Mr. Smith," a voice called down.

Heyes started. "Oh, good evening, Miss Porter, ma'am."

"Sorry, ma'am," apologized Kid. "Didn't expect to see you there."

"Well, wait there, please. I'll be right down." Miss Porter's head disappeared and the window closed.

Moments later, the back door opened and Miss Porter invited the two men inside. She led them into a study and closed the door. "My father is a sound sleeper, gentlemen. We won't be overheard. Please, sit down." She indicated the sofa in front of the fireplace, and she herself sat in the chair behind the large desk that faced the window.

"Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones, I'm glad to see you, even though it is," Miss Porter looked at the clock on the desk, "Almost four fifteen in the morning."

"We were held up on our way to Porterville, ma'am." Kid looked sharply at Heyes, who ignored the look his partner gave him.

"That's right, ma'am." Kid offered another apology. "We're very sorry for the delay. I hope it didn't cause you any trouble."

Miss Porter decided not to tell them how tired she was after sleeping fitfully with a lamp on for the past two nights. "Oh, no trouble at all. I'm just glad you finally got here," she added truthfully.

"Well," Heyes took over the conversation. "We wanted to thank you for taking delivery of the posters for us. And we wanted to let you know that we found them in the bank and we have them now."

"I was glad to help, Mr. Smith. You know I think Mr. Trevors is an excellent sheriff," Miss Porter began. Her eyes widened as she comprehended the rest of Heyes' words. "You found them in the bank…?"

"Yes, ma'am. You remember," Heyes smiled persuasively, "You gave me a key to the bank when we discussed this before."

Miss Porter looked uncertain.

Kid added his support to Heyes. "That's right, ma'am," he repeated. "You said Mr. Smith would need a key to open the door so we could get the posters, and you gave him a key."

"I suppose I did. Forgive me, gentlemen. I'm not used to being up at this hour. I think I'm still a little tired."

"Quite all right, ma'am," Kid assured her. "We'll take our leave now. Thank you again."

"Yes, thank you, Miss Porter." Heyes paused, then asked, "If we need to speak with you about the election, may we call on you again at night? I'm sure you understand that we still don't want Mr. Trevors to know we're here."

"Of course, Mr. Smith. But how will I know when you're coming?"

Heyes smiled. "We'll send you a message at the bank. We'll let you know the day and the time so you can expect us. Would that be acceptable, ma'am?"

"Perfectly, gentlemen." Miss Porter stood up. "Good night."

=0=0=0=

Back at their camp, they built a small fire to keep the chill of the night away. Kid wanted to know why they hadn't stayed in town and put up some posters while they were already there. "I mean, we could've kept some with us and put them up before we went to see Miss Porter, or done it after we talked to her."

"Kid, we didn't have any nails or glue to post them. And we couldn't do it after we saw Miss Porter. It was getting light and people might've seen us. It was too risky."

Heyes looked at his partner. He could tell Kid wasn't pleased. Heyes wasn't often the recipient of one of Kid's icy looks and when he was, he didn't like it. He waited for Kid to speak his mind, not wanting to hear what he had to say.

"How could you forget a thing like nails? This ain't like you, Heyes. First you fool around in Denver, then you can't figure out what to do when those outlaws rob the stage, and now tonight. What kind of Hannibal Heyes plan is this?"

"I can't always be perfect," he tried to joke.

Kid stared at him and Heyes squirmed.

"Kid, it's been over a year since we pulled a job. I'm out of practice, that's all."

It sounded reasonable but Kid wasn't buying it. "Heyes, maybe you can fool yourself but you can't bluff me. I've known you too long."

"You're the genius now; you tell me what's going on, then." Heyes' sarcastic response had no effect on Kid.

"Heyes, just 'cos I had some ideas a few days ago, that don't make me a genius. I don't think it rubs off that quick."

Heyes smothered a grin as Kid continued angrily, "What's the matter with you? Are you tryin' to sabotage Lom's reelection?"

"Sabotage…?"

"I mean, are you tryin' to make Lom lose or what?"

"I know what the word means! And no, I'm not trying to sabotage his reelection!"

"Then what, Heyes? Why aren't you thinkin' things through like you used to?"

Heyes shrugged and didn't respond. He turned to go to his bedroll but Kid stepped in front of him. Kid's temper was barely under control.

"Do I have to flatten you to get an answer? I know you want the amnesty, maybe even more than me. So why can't you figure out the best way to help Lom so he can help us?" Kid stopped yelling. "Why is this so hard for you?"

"Kid," Heyes shook his head and sat down. "I guess…" he began tentatively. "I guess I'm just having a hard time getting used to the idea of helping a lawman, even if it is someone I know."

Kid nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"We've been on the other side for so long, it just seems… I don't know. I mean, it's one thing to try and stay on the straight and narrow. But to go out of our way and actively support the law, I just can't seem to get my mind around that, even if it was my idea to begin with."

"Heyes," Kid said, and the tension left his body as he continued talking, "You're the one who said if Lom didn't win, we'd be in trouble. You're the one who came up with the plan to help him. It's a good plan. But I can't do it by myself so get serious and help me out here, okay?"

Heyes looked at Kid for a while longer, then he got up and started pacing. Kid smiled to himself, satisfied that his partner was thinking with renewed determination about how to make the plan a success.

=0=0=0=

Heyes risked riding into town later that day to buy several boxes of nails. While at the mercantile, he listened to the local gossip about the Sheriff's election. Although people spoke about Lom with respect, he also heard many people say his opponent in the race, whose name he learned was Benedict Matherson, had many good ideas for keeping Porterville safe. A prominent businessman, Matherson knew all the other business owners in town and apparently they were willing to overlook the fact that he had no experience as a lawman. Heyes left Porterville feeling unsettled but now more committed to making his plan to reelect Lom work.

That night, Heyes and Kid packed the posters on their horses and, starting at opposite ends of Porterville, nailed them to all the homes, shops and businesses in the town. When Kid met up with Heyes again, he was staring at the office of Matherson & Sons, Land Agents, from across the street.

"No, Heyes."

"What?" Innocent brown eyes glittered.

"We are NOT goin' inside that office."

"Why not, Kid? We could find out how Matherson is planning to defeat Lom. We could really help him out if we knew Matherson's plans."

"Or we could get Lom in really big trouble if Matherson suspects a break-in. And what would Lom say if he knew?"

"No one'll ever know." Heyes walked across the street and knelt by the front door. "Come on, Kid."

"This is not one of your better ideas, Heyes," Kid said, as he unwillingly but loyally followed his partner inside.

Kid stifled a curse as he bumped into a desk in the middle of the room, his eyes not fully adjusted to the dark interior. Heyes was already rifling through the papers on the large roll-top desk in the back and gestured for Kid to join him.

"Look at this," Heyes whispered excitedly, pointing to a ledger he'd been reading. He held it up so Kid could see it clearly but all Kid could make out was rows of numbers in tiny handwriting and names to the left of each row. "It's the accounts for Matherson's campaign. Do you know how useful this'll be?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway."

"With this information, we'll know exactly who…" Heyes paused as Kid's response sunk in. "All right; fine. We'll know who supports Lom and who doesn't."

"Yeah, but what can we do about it? We can't just target Matherson's supporters or he might get suspicious and start askin' questions. And if Lom hears of it, he'll definitely start wonderin' what's going' on. Lom ain't stupid. If he looks real closely at those posters, he might figure out it was us who put them up. Then what, Heyes?"

"You picked a fine time to get all logical," Heyes grumbled. He threw up his arms in vexation. "So…what, then? After you went and got me all fired up again, now you want me to sit back and do nothing? Make up your mind, Kid!"

"I'm just sayin'," Kid retorted, not put off by Heyes' theatrics, "We need to be careful, is all. We can't afford to make Lom suspicious."

"I know that." Heyes started pacing around the room. A glance at a paper on the other desk caught his attention and, curious, he picked it up. He stopped pacing.

"Kid, come here."

"What now?"

"You need to see this." Heyes held out the paper for Kid.

"This ain't good, Heyes. We gotta do somethin'." Kid saw Lom's name at the top, followed by a list of untruths about his record as Sheriff.

Heyes was staring at the paper. "I know," he said absently, as he started pacing again.

Kid searched and found a stack of papers all repeating the same lies about Lom. He picked them up and counted one hundred papers.

"All right. Here's what we're going to do." Heyes brushed his hair back and faced his partner. "We take all these posters…"

"Heyes, we can't steal them! Matherson will think Lom did it!"

"Exactly," Heyes grinned, "And Lom will have to investigate to prove he didn't steal them. That'll show the whole town that Lom's an honest sheriff who can be trusted to investigate every crime, even when he's under suspicion himself. He'll prove that no one is above the law in Porterville." Except us, Heyes reflected, and kept that thought to himself.

"Heyes, where do you get these ideas? Next you'll be wantin' to break into Lom's office and make it look like Matherson did it."

"Good thinking, Kid! No one would ever suspect us!"

"Heyes, we are NOT going to break into the Sheriff's office. That'd make Lom look bad, 'cos if he can't even keep his own office secure, why would people think he could protect the town?" Kid dropped the papers back on the desk. "And we're not taking these papers, neither!"

Heyes stopped teasing his partner. "Calm down, Kid. Of course we're not going to take these papers. Or do anything to make Lom look incompetent. Boy, you sure rile up easy now that you've gone straight!"

Kid glowered at Heyes as he followed him out of the building and carefully closed the door.

=0=0=0=

The following day, they sent a message to Miss Porter asking to meet her and just after midnight, they settled into the chairs in the study in her house.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you'd like to know what people in town are saying about the posters," Miss Porter correctly deduced. Heyes and Kid nodded and tried not to look too anxious.

"There's been quite a lot of talk, actually." Miss Porter smiled as she recalled some of the comments she'd overheard in the mercantile. "You've certainly gotten people talking about Sheriff Trevors. They're remembering all the good things he's done for this town."

"Good," said Kid. "That was the whole point." He was pleased the posters were having the desired effect.

"I just hope everyone will actually go and cast their votes for him," Miss Porter said.

Heyes asked sharply, "Now they realize what a good sheriff he is, why wouldn't they vote for him? Mr. Matherson doesn't have any experience compared to Sheriff Trevors!"

"Well," Miss Porter didn't want to be the one to tell them, but they needed to know. "Apparently, someone broke in to Mr. Matherson's office last night and although nothing was taken, some people are saying that Sheriff Trevors was responsible."

"What? That's ridiculous!" Heyes' eyes flashed with anger while Kid sat and watched his partner deflect suspicion away from Lom. "He'd never do anything like that! Sheriff Trevors is the most honest sheriff I've ever met!"

And, Kid thought wryly, they had met a lot of sheriffs over the years. "Ma'am, what makes people think the Sheriff had anything to do with it?"

"Some of Mr. Matherson's supporters are saying that his campaign posters aren't very favorable to Sheriff Trevors, and he might have heard about it and want to get rid of them before anyone saw them."

"Well, that don't make a lot of sense," Heyes told her. "This ain't the Sheriff's first election so he knows his opponent will make things up about him. He wouldn't do anything dishonest that'd jeopardize his chance of winning."

Miss Porter nodded. "Oh, most people know that, Mr. Smith. The talk I heard today was that they like Sheriff Trevors well enough but now they're not so sure about him."

"Ma'am, what's Sheriff Trevors doin' about it? The break-in, I mean." Kid looked over at Heyes who looked back calmly, silently telling Kid not to worry.

"He's investigating, Mr. Jones. He and Deputy Wilkins went over to the office as soon as they were told about it." Miss Porter recited the details succinctly. "Mr. Matherson said he had a stack of posters on his desk and it looked like they'd been moved from where he'd put them last."

"But how would Sheriff Trevors know where the posters were?" Heyes pointed out. "Maybe one of Mr. Matherson's friends did it to try and make the Sheriff look bad."

Miss Porter considered that idea. "That could also explain how the culprit got inside."

"Ma'am?"

"The door wasn't damaged, Mr. Jones. Whoever did it, he used a key to get inside. And of course Sheriff Trevors doesn't have a key to Mr. Matherson's business office."

"I can see why people are talking about this. Sure is a shame that people are blaming the Sheriff when it's clear he had nothing to do with it. Do you think they realize it's got to be someone who knows Mr. Matherson well?" Heyes planted another thought in Miss Porter's mind. "Maybe Mr. Matherson did it himself to try and get sympathy from the townsfolk so they'll vote for him."

"Well, I'll do my best to make sure that doesn't happen, gentlemen!"

=0=0=0=

"Heyes, if the folk in town think Lom was behind the break-in, we got to do something to help him." Back at their campsite, Kid was too agitated to go to sleep. He laid out his bedroll but then just sat down on top of it and looked over at his partner.

Heyes had already taken his boots off and gotten inside his own bedroll but he lay on his side so he could talk to Kid. Heyes knew Kid was upset. "Don't worry, Kid, everything'll be fine. Lom will prove he had nothing to do with it."

"But if he don't? Then what, Heyes?" Kid wasn't letting him off so easy. "We got to do something," he repeated stubbornly. He angrily threw some twigs onto the fire. It flared up and he could see that Heyes was thinking.

"In case you've forgotten, we did."

"Yeah, we broke into safes and offices! Can't you think of somethin' law-abidin' we can do?" Kid grumbled.

"We did that, too."

"Oh, right. Wanted posters!"

"And it's working. Miss Porter said people are supporting Lom again."

"I just hope it's enough." Kid finished undressing, lay down and pulled his blanket around him. He looked over at Heyes, who had closed his eyes and was trying to go to sleep.

It took Kid a while longer but soon he, too, was sleeping.

=0=0=0=

"Thank you for meeting us again, ma'am. I'm sure it's not easy for you to wait up so late, what with having to go to work early in the morning and all." Heyes and Kid were at Miss Porter's house for another midnight meeting.

Miss Porter succumbed to the effect of Heyes' eyes and she revised what she had been about to say. "Well, my father sometimes lets me arrive late to work. He says women shouldn't be held to the same standards as men. Sometimes I let him think I agree with him and this will be one of those times, gentlemen."

Kid added, "I hope you know how much we appreciate all your help, ma'am." He tried to figure out a way he could repay her. But taking her out to dinner hadn't worked very well before and he wasn't sure what else he could do.

Miss Porter smiled. "Mr. Matherson isn't doing himself any favors. Some of his supporters have been seen pulling down the posters about Sheriff Trevors. Mr. Matherson is trying to spread untruths about the Sheriff and that's also turning the townsfolk against him. People in town are more and more impressed with how Sheriff Trevors is handling this situation. Most people now realize what a good job he's done and don't want to take a chance on Mr. Matherson."

Heyes and Kid breathed sighs of relief.

"So Sheriff Trevors will be reelected?" Heyes checked.

"Yes, Mr. Smith, I believe he will be. But until the final results are in anything can happen, you know," Miss Porter reminded him.

"Well, ma'am, I'm sure Sheriff Trevors is honored to have the support of you and all the other good ladies of Porterville. I know you'll all vote for the man who'll keep the town safe for you and your families."

Once again, Kid was amused to see Heyes' flattery charm her. He knew she would persuade all her women friends to vote for Lom and do her best to ensure his victory.

=0=0=0=

The evening before the election found them back at their campsite on the outskirts of Porterville. Heyes was walking around and around the campfire, a variation to his usual pacing that did nothing to help Kid's nerves. Kid was sitting on a blanket, his back against his saddle, idly peeling the bark off a pile of twigs near the fire.

"Will you cut it out?" he groused.

"It calms me down, you know that."

"Well, it's not calming me, so stop."

Heyes sat down for a moment next to Kid.

"Want to play blackjack?"

"No."

"Want to clean my gun?"

"No."

"Since when?"

"Huh?"

"Since when don't you want to clean my gun? You always want to clean my gun!"

Heyes got up and went over to his saddlebag. He returned and thrust his gun at Kid. "Here."

Kid ignored him. "Go read a book, Heyes."

"It's too dark."

"Plenty of light by the fire. Try it; you'll see." Kid chuckled.

Heyes had had enough. "How can you just sit there doing nothing?" he demanded.

Kid tossed the twig he'd been working on into the fire. "Ain't nothin' else I can do, Heyes. I reckon we done the best we could. Now it's up to the voters."

"Maybe we should pay them to vote for Lom," Heyes suggested.

"Even if we had the money, how would we manage to do that? We'd be recognized right away."

"I bet Matherson's going to buy some votes."

"Probably," Kid agreed. "But if Miss Porter's right, it won't make a difference."

"Kid, I don't know how you can just sit there and wait. There's got to be something more we can do!" Heyes didn't want to accept the fact that his future was no longer in his control. He continued walking around and around and kept coming up with ideas, but discarded them without even telling Kid. They were all crazy and foolhardy and he knew his partner wouldn't agree.

Finally, Heyes gave up. "All right," he said crossly, as he sank down next to Kid. "You win. We wait."

"No, Heyes. Lom'll win. Have a little faith!" he reminded him.

"Shut up!"

=0=0=0=

Skulking around town in broad daylight wasn't an option so Heyes and Kid found a spot where they could hide but which still gave them a good view of the schoolhouse where the townsfolk were voting. They passed the binoculars back and forth as Election Day wore on, trying to get a sense of how the voting was going. It seemed to them that a lot of people were going inside. People were dressed up and in good spirits, as far as they could tell. They hoped that was good for Lom.

"What time does the voting end, Heyes?"

"Six o'clock." He looked at his pocket watch. "About an hour from now."

"You think we'll ever be able to vote?"

"You want to vote?" Heyes turned in surprise to look at Kid. "What for?"

Kid wasn't sure he could explain. Wasn't sure he even wanted to. He shifted uncomfortably. "Don't you?" he asked, trying to avoid answering.

"Not really," Heyes responded. He thought for a bit, then added, "Sometimes I do but then I see all the crooked people who get elected and I figure why bother, 'cos it won't make a difference one way or the other."

"But that's it, Heyes! If people vote honestly, then good people, like Lom, would get elected." Kid wanted his partner to understand. "Maybe my vote could make a difference."

Kid's earnestness almost made Heyes laugh. Sometimes, Kid was just too naïve, always looking for the good in people. Heyes thought sourly that he was too cynical. Or maybe it was just that he'd seen more of life-and death-than Kid had.

"I guess doing our civic duty has inspired you," Heyes joked. It was the wrong thing to say.

"This ain't a joke!" Kid was angry. "We're real close to havin' normal lives, Heyes. If Lom don't win... I don't know what we'll do if Lom loses." Kid shook his head and turned his back to Heyes so he wouldn't see how anxious he was. He'd hid it last night but now Kid was having a hard time being patient.

Heyes walked around so he faced Kid. "I want that, too, you know. But whatever happens, we'll manage. We always do."

"Bein' able to vote, that's normal. I just want…normal, is all," Kid said softly.

Heyes didn't know what to say. He looked back at the schoolhouse. "Hey, I think they finished. Look." He pointed to the man carrying a big wooden box, padlock clearly visible, up the street, surrounded by Lom, Matherson, the Mayor and other town notables.

"Now what are they doin'?" Kid asked.

"Looks like they're going to count the votes somewhere else." Heyes and Kid followed the crowd, making sure to stay out of sight.

They watched as the men, along with by a substantial number of women and children, walked over to the church. A few men went inside and came back with a table and a few chairs. One of the town councilors set up a chalkboard he'd brought over from the Mayor's office on the table, where everyone could see it clearly. He drew a line down the middle and at the top wrote "Sheriff Trevors" on the left and "Mr. Matherson" on the right. He underlined the names with a flourish. Two other councilors sat in the chairs, each holding a piece of chalk.

A few minutes later, the town's minister came out of the church. The Mayor handed him the key to the box and then addressed the waiting crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all want to know the results of the election for Sheriff of Porterville. Before we start the vote count, I want to assure you that no one has tampered with this box. Sheriff Trevors and Mr. Matherson or their supporters have never let it out of their sight the entire day. Isn't that correct, gentlemen?" he turned and asked them. Getting affirmative nods in response, the Mayor continued. "To make doubly certain there are no shenanigans as the votes are being counted, you can see we have taken extra precautions. I've asked our minister to count the votes; I'm sure everyone agrees that a man of God will be honest. There are supporters of both candidates here and two of the town councilors will record the actual votes on this board, in plain view of all of you. Does that meet with everyone's approval?"

It did.

Heyes and Kid watched in fascination as well as trepidation as the votes were slowly tallied. The minister pulled the ballots from the box one at a time and loudly read out the name on the paper. The town councilors made a mark on the board under the name that was called. The townspeople and each candidate's supporters ensured that the marks went in the correct place.

Over the next quarter of an hour, the marks in each candidate's column increased at an even pace. Then, Matherson pulled ahead by fifteen votes.

"No!" Kid clenched his fists and then his right hand strayed unconsciously to his holster.

"Kid! It's okay." Heyes saw how tense Kid was and, although he didn't really think Kid was about to shoot something, or someone, he needed to get him to relax. "Remember when all the offices closed for lunch and a group of men went together to vote? That must be what the minister's counting now."

Kid began to breathe again. So did Heyes.

The minister was still pulling votes from the ballot box but it was taking him longer to retrieve them. Lom was behind now by only six votes. The crowd sensed that the vote count was almost finished and began to get unruly. Scattered shouts of "hurry up!" and "stop dilly dallying!" were heard.

Lom moved to quiet the spectators. "Let's be patient, folks. It's just a bit longer and then it'll all be over." The Sheriff's words calmed the crowd and the minister resumed his reading of the ballots.

Lom's name was read out four more times.

Heyes was now just as tense as Kid. "Come on," he encouraged the minister. "Three more votes; that's all he needs."

"Heyes! Maybe he hasn't counted the votes from the ladies! They all voted in the morning, remember? They took their kids to school and then voted, before they went shopping." Kid thought of something else. "So all their votes would be on the bottom, because they went so early, right?" He looked at Heyes for confirmation.

A big grin spread across Heyes' face. "I guess being a genius IS contagious! You're right, Kid. Lom's going to win!" The relief on his face revealed just how uncertain he had really been of the outcome.

While they had been talking, the minister had continued his job and Heyes and Kid both noticed that Lom had pulled ahead by six votes. The minister was still plucking ballots from the box but he had to fish around for them. He read Lom's name two more times and Matherson's once. The Sheriff was now in front by seven votes. The crowd was silent, anticipating the end result. The last three ballots were retrieved and they all went to Lom.

The Mayor raised his hands to get the townspeople's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have all witnessed the vote count and as Mayor of this town, I certify that it was conducted openly and honestly. I am pleased to announce that the winner of the election for Sheriff of Porterville is Mr. Lom Trevors! Congratulations, sir, and well done!" The crowd applauded and although a few jeers were heard, it was obvious that the majority of honest voters were jubilant at the outcome.

Lom moved in front of the table so he could be seen clearly by everyone as he gave a short speech. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your support and confidence in me. I will work hard and serve to the best of my ability as your Sheriff. Now, duty calls and I must get back to work." He walked over to his office and the crowd slowly dispersed.

Heyes and Kid stood there, unseen by the townspeople who were returning to their homes. Then, they grabbed each other and held tight for a moment, before letting go and looking at each other, elation and relief equally reflected on both their faces.

"We did it, Kid! We did it!" Heyes almost couldn't believe it. "Lom won!"

Kid was dazed. He had hoped for this result but hadn't truly expected it to happen. It was one of the few times in his life that something had gone his way. "And all because of the ladies. Let's remember the ladies, Heyes." He thought he'd be eternally grateful to Miss Porter and her friends.

"Well, we helped, too." Heyes wasn't about to let Kid forget that they had played a major part in Lom's reelection. "Come on. Let's go celebrate."

=0=0=0=

Back at the campsite and several shots of whiskey later, Heyes and Kid were still celebrating.

"Here's to Lom, the best sheriff an outlaw could ever know!" Heyes raised his glass and drank.

"To Lom, the besht… the besht…" Kid couldn't figure out how to end it. "The besht!" He tossed back his drink and poured another for both of them. "I think I'm drunk."

"I know you are!" Heyes said, grinning. He thought a moment, then added, "Me, too!"

They drank until the bottle was empty, enjoying the feeling of freedom it gave them, knowing they could rarely indulge like that. They were safe in the woods and they needed to release all the tension of the past few weeks. Tomorrow they'd have hangovers but tonight they allowed themselves the pleasure, glad they were partners, secure in the knowledge that they'd always be there for each other.

=0=0=0=

"Howdy, Lom."

He looked up from the paperwork he'd been filling out to see Heyes standing in front of his desk and Kid over by the stove.

"Want some coffee?" Kid asked, holding up the pot that was always half-filled. He poured three cups, passed them around, then he and Heyes sat down.

"What do you want?" Lom asked suspiciously, remembering the last time they'd visited him.

A hurt look crossed Heyes' face. "We came to congratulate you," he said. "Heard you got reelected." A few days had passed since the election and he figured it was time they visited the Sheriff.

"Oh," Lom said contritely. "Thanks."

"Heard it got pretty exciting around here," Heyes said, angling to see how much Lom knew about the events that had occurred during the campaign.

Lom eyed the pair speculatively. "It was a close race. I was lucky to win."

"You got a lot of supporters, Lom. It's a good town for a good sheriff." Kid raised his cup in a toast.

"You know, Lom," Heyes began. "When we rode in today, we saw a poster on the door of the livery with your name on it. Looked like it was from the election." He managed to make it a question.

Lom flushed. "Well, last weekthe whole town was covered with them. Houses, businesses, even Matherson's office. They just appeared one day."

"Really? And no one knows who put them up?" There was laughter in Heyes' eyes as he asked and Kid glanced at his partner, warning him not to push it.

"Nope. But it sure cost a lot of money to get them posters made. Wasn't done in Porterville; I asked." Lom stared hard at Heyes.

Heyes smiled back at Lom. "Well, whoever it was, he sure was a genius."

Kid choked on his coffee.

"You okay, Kid?" Heyes thumped him on his back. Kid glared at him.

"We told you you wouldn't lose, didn't we, Kid?"

"Yup. We're real glad you won, Lom."

"Thanks, boys. I appreciate that."

Lom told Heyes and Kid about his investigation of the break-in, hoping they'd slip and say something that confirmed their involvement but they knew what he was doing and were careful about what they said.

"Well, Lom," Heyes said a while later, "I think we ought to be going. Here's the money we owe you." Heyes had wrapped all the bills in a piece of paper. He gave the money to Lom, who left it on top of his desk. "It means a lot that you trusted us with it," he said seriously.

Kid stood up. "Thanks again, Lom, for everything." He and Heyes shook Lom's hand.

"You boys take care, you hear?"

"We will, and give our best to the Governor!" Heyes called over his shoulder, as he and Kid exited the office.

Lom watched them walk away, then began to count his money. Only after he had finished, relieved that the full amount had been returned, did he look at the paper the money had been wrapped up in. His name was printed at the top and his picture was underneath.

Sheriff Lom Trevors sat back in his chair and laughed.


End file.
